A/N: Hmm… I seemed to have silenced everyone with that last chapter. Oops. Hopefully this one will be a bit more interesting. :)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Denerim

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Tough and funny and a little bit kind: that is as near to perfection as a human being can be.

~ Mignon Laughlin

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Alistair shifted his weight impatiently, watching Elissa with such intensity he was sure that any moment now, his eyes were going to bore holes in the back of her head. The sun shone prettily on her hair as she flipped a strand over her shoulder, laughing, and leaned closer over the table, giving the merchant the illusion of her undivided attention while managing to flash a generous curve of cleavage.

He ground his teeth together.

A soft whimper at his side brought Aiden to his attention, clearly just as unhappy with this arrangement. The dog looked up at him with pleading eyes, stamping in place in his desire to be over by his mistress against her specific order to stay put. Not needing to be convinced, Alistair made a small gesture with his hand, indicating to go ahead. The dog offered him a bark in thanks and instantly galloped over, planting himself beside Elissa.

"Huh. I have never seen a mabari take instruction from anyone but their master," Zevran said, thoughtful. He was leaning lazily against a wall, a complete contrast to the tension of the other two. "I rather thought it was a trait of the breed in which Fereldans took great pride."

"We have a very love-hate relationship," Alistair muttered, not really paying attention. He was still too busy watching Elissa. She appeared to be finished, handing over the coin for the collection of vials and length of linen they desperately needed. She looked pleased with herself when she returned, but Alistair was beyond being placated.

"Maker's breath!" The words exploded from him before he could think. "You were just supposed to haggle him down, not make him bust his breeches!"

"What are you talking about?"

Zevran chuckled. "I would be more than happy to demonstrate…"

"Shut up, Zevran." Alistair stalked toward her. "Elissa, I know we're short on coin, but no more. Next time let Zevran threaten him or something. That's what he's here for."

She pursed her lips, lowering her voice. "How else did you expect me to get these things for nothing more than a handful of coppers? We're broke, Alistair. It's time to tuck away those tender sensibilities of yours and do what we have to do, like you keep telling me."

It wasn't just his tender sensibilities, or even his newly discovered jealousy where Elissa was concerned. Despite being the capital city of Ferelden and the home of the royal palace, Denerim was a dangerous place, as were all large cities. Bandits and thieves lurked in alleyways and shadowed corners, always on the lookout for a possible mark. It was even more dangerous for a woman to be caught alone, and though Alistair was more inclined to feel anyone who tried to accost the women he traveled with was certainly biting off more than they could chew, he couldn't ignore the risk that remained ever present for them, either. Bad guys tended to travel in packs, overcoming cowardice with sheer numbers, and none of them were invincible. He had already noticed a number of sallow, greasy-haired thugs watching Elissa with far too much interest, and it was making him nervous. Zevran's sudden insistence to come into town rather than waiting back at camp only told Alistair that he wasn't over-reacting, either. Elissa had insisted on regular clothing to avoid drawing the attention of the town guard, but Zevran's lethal-looking daggers worn were openly at his belt instead of hidden beneath a cloak, and Alistair didn't doubt he wore some form of protection beneath his shirt.

As a result, he was in a foul mood that afternoon, and trying to pretend he wasn't was only making it more obvious as the day went on. He was mostly sure that Elissa couldn't hear all the comments he was making beneath his breath while she dealt with the representative of the Mages' Collective, at least until the man left and her foot came stomping down on his.

"Ow! Would you lay off the toes?"

"Would you stop running your mouth? We're trying to find work. It would help if you didn't deliberately set out to annoy everyone who gives us a chance."

"Oh, so sorry to get in the way of you trying to save the world. I'll just be over here, wallowing in my own insignificance."

She sighed. "Okay, so you're annoyed."

No, he was being an ass. Sometimes it just took him a moment to realize it. He swallowed the sharp retort that came to mind, sorry he was taking his frustration out on Elissa when she was the one who was actually trying to solve the problem. "I just don't understand why we're dealing with all these shady characters. The city guard was willing to hire us."

She crossed her arms, looking skeptical. "He wanted us to chase a gang of mercenaries out of a brothel. You expect me to barge in and start bossing around a gang of fully armed men?"

"Why not? You do it to me all the time."

… … …

Elissa had never imagined being in a brothel in her life, but if she had ever taken the time to, she certainly wouldn't have expected it to look like the Pearl. The foyer and common room were not only clean and well-maintained, but lavishly decorated; expensive rugs decorated the polished floors and fresh flowers stood in real glass vases. Zevran scanned the scene with an amused kind of fondness. "Ah, I grew up in a place such as this!"

Alistair started at him, looking for a moment like he didn't know whether or not to believe him. "You grew up in a brothel?"

"Most assuredly, before I was sold to the Crows. They say you can never go home again, but for ten silvers an hour, you can come fairly close."

A loud crash sounded from the back of the room, followed by the sound of riotous laughter. Elissa immediately spotted a group of five men in the corner, insolently lounging amidst a clutter of empty bottles and tankards. One of them had just fallen to the floor, managing to break a leg off his chair in the process. From the look of the cheap swill they were drinking, Elissa was a little amazed any of them were still conscious.

A middle-aged woman stood in the middle of the room, her arms crossed and looking none too pleased. She was a handsome woman, with dark hair and eyes and a generous figure encased in a low-cut blouse and a laced bodice that accentuated her curves. She turned when Elissa and her companions approached, eying their weapons with undisguised suspicion. "More of them, are you?"

"No. We were sent by Sergeant Kylon."

The look of dislike softened marginally. "Finally remembered we were here, did he? Well and good, then. Sanga—proprietor of this establishment." She scowled down at Aiden. "I trust you'll watch the dog? I just had these floors finished."

Elissa reached down and gave Aiden a reassuring pat when he whined. "He's trained."

"If you say so. Try not to bust up my place too much."

Elissa took a moment to study the group before noticing a particularly large man sitting in the front. There was something about the way the others hung on his every word that told her he was the one to convince. She walked over, Alistair and Zevran following close behind, and immediately kicked the stool out from beneath his feet. "Party's over, gentlemen. Time to sleep it off."

He only looked up at her and grinned, bleary-eyed from drink. "Well, well. How much do you cost, little girl?"

"I'm not for sale. You're being ordered to leave the premises."

He laughed, hiccupping loudly, and grabbed her wrist. "And just how do you expect to make us do that?"

Without so much as a growl in warning, Aiden clamped down on the man's arm. He screamed in sudden fright and pain, twisting to get free, but Aiden was undeterred, biting down harder. A couple of the mercenaries moved to get up, swearing loudly and reaching for weapons, but were stopped short at the cold touch of steel—Alistair and Zevran had both drawn and had their blades angles beneath their throat. Elissa used the flat of her dagger to lift the leader's chin as he quivered, whimpering. "Why don't you take your business elsewhere?"

He didn't answer, just nodded. At a silent hand signal from Elissa, Aiden released him, his ears still pressed flat against his skull and growling low in his throat. Zevran caught the bleeding mercenary by the arm and hauled him out of his chair, keeping his dagger in hand as he began to steer him towards the exit. Without argument, the others began to slink towards the door.

"Don't forget your friend."

Two of them stopped, looking at each other before they stepped over cautiously, collecting the unconscious man and quickly hurrying out behind the others.

Elissa sheathed her weapons. "Well, that was certainly more effective than I thought it would be."

"You'd be amazed how prudent a man can become when his arm's being gnawed off," Alistair said, but he bent down and scratched Aiden behind the ears. The dog barked happily, wagging his tail.

Elissa laughed. "I'm just going to go make sure they don't turn on Zevran in the street. Be right back."

It seemed the mercenaries had no such inclination, because when Elissa followed them out, the streets were empty. Zevran was nearby, looking narrow-eyed at a yellowed notice nailed to the wall. Curious, Elissa wandered over, reading over his shoulder.

Don't believe the lies! Friends of the Grey Wardens assemble. The hidden pearl holds the key to resistance. The griffons will rise again.

"That seems a little odd," she said, crossing her arms.

Zevran nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "A bold statement, indeed, particularly in the regent's own city. I have seen many such notices posted all around the Market District." He paused, thinking. "It would serve as quite a lure, no? One has to wonder how many of your supporters now dwell in Fort Drakon out of a misguided desire to help."

Elissa felt a sinking feeling around her heart. "Do you think this Sanga knows anything about this?"

"A woman such as her does not get where she is by being a fool, or by nosing around in other people's business. As is expected, it comes down to the coin. But I am certain she suspects."

Elissa sighed. "Don't show it to Alistair," she said. Zevran only nodded in agreement and tore it from the wall.

Inside the Pearl, Alistair was being cornered by Sanga. Elissa walked over just in time to catch the tail end of their conversation. "Are you sure you won't have one of our girls? We have some nice ones who would be happy to service you, and it's on the house, love."

Alistair backed up until he ran into a table, shoving a nervous hand through his hair and keeping his eyes determinedly fixed on his feet. "No, no… that's okay. Really."

She shrugged. "Your choice. Let me know if you change your mind."

Elissa bit her tongue as the woman took her leave, trying to hold back her laughter. "Are you okay?"

He glanced her way, looking miserable. "I have the sudden feeling I may need a drink."

She giggled. "Go get one. I have to talk to the matron. For information, Alistair," she said at his incredulous look. "These girls know everything that goes on in this city. I'd like an idea of what's really going on, rather than whatever display of peace and order Loghain is trying to present."

Since she had some time on her hands—she might of known it was too much to hope that Zevran would be able to pass on Sanga's generosity—Elissa took her time talking to several of the Pearl's workers, trying to gather any tiny bit of information they had heard of the situation in Denerim. As she had suspected, with the varied clientele they serviced, every whisper of a rumor had floated through the Pearl at one time or another. Though most of them would have kept their silence at any other time, there was an undercurrent of unrest flowing throughout all of Denerim. Elissa was careful in her questioning, garnering enough information that she soon figured out the source behind it.

She joined Alistair at a round table, where he had been waiting, more than willing to let Elissa use her position as a female to garner sympathy. He sat with his back against the wall, hunkered over his tankard and looking more nervous than he did on a trap-riddled battlefield. Elissa slid into the seat beside him, offering him a crooked smile. "They only work for hire, you realize."

He glanced up, but still seemed afraid of accidently making eye contact with anyone in the room. "I don't know. That one in the corner doesn't look like she charges much."

Elissa followed his gaze to a voluptuous woman sitting alone and idly shuffling through a deck of cards. She was absolutely stunning, with caramel-colored skin and blue-black hair that fell down her back in waves and curls, tied back out of her face with a handkerchief. She was watching both of them with obvious interest, her dark eyes narrowed in curiosity.

Before Elissa could ask, another woman walked up to their table. She set down a tankard in front of Elissa, eyeing her beadily with her hand on her hip. "I saw you talking to Sanga. You the new girl?"

"Uh… no."

"Well, thank the Maker for that. Hard enough to make a living as it is." She tossed Alistair a wink before sauntering away.

Elissa shook her head. "Anyway." She leaned in closer, wary of being overheard. "It turns out those rumors we've been hearing aren't just rumors. There are a lot of banns who don't trust Loghain's version of what happened at Ostagar. Fights have been breaking out all over the bannorn when they refuse to pledge their armies. According to Sanga, Loghain hasn't been able to muster anywhere near the support he had anticipated."

Alistair turned towards her, looking troubled. "So it is a civil war."

"That's not all. Arl Howe has become his right-hand man and named the Arl of Denerim." She had to pause to rein in her fury at the very thought. "He's been granted Highever, and Amaranthine is already his. That filth rules over all of northeastern Ferelden!"

"Calm down," Alistair said, deliberately quiet. He crossed his arms on the table and took her hand, his fingers entwined in hers. "Both of them are going to pay for what they've done."

"That kind of brings me to my next point." Elissa leaned in even closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. "The people aren't very happy with Howe's ruling of Denerim. He's been hiking up the taxes on the business owners and skimming it off the top. Sanga says he must have a fortune hoarded away in that estate of his. Rumor has it that he's planning to ship it to Highever, and soon. What if it were intercepted?"

His eyes widened, staring at her. It seemed to take him a moment to figure out what to say. "Elissa, do you even realize what you're saying? You're talking about stealing from one of the most powerful men in Ferelden!"

"I'm talking about taking something back from a murdering usurper who's decided the people of this country owe him something. That money can either go to fund Loghain's army, or it can come to us to help us end this Blight. Which would you prefer?"

"You can save your manipulation tactics. I've seen them too often already." He sighed, unconsciously pulling her hand nearer, his thumb gently stroking the sensitive skin above her knuckles. "How much money are we talking about?"

"Enough that we'll never have to sell our swords again."

"It's risky." He looked at her for a long time, his eyes clear and unreadable. "Fine—I'm in. But we've got to be careful about this. If we get caught, Loghain will have us both swinging from the gallows by morning."

"The transfer isn't supposed to happen for two weeks. We'll finish up our business here and disappear right after."

"Won't that look conspicuous?'

She gave him a twisted smile. "They're going to know who did it, anyway, once word gets out that we were here. They haven't been able to catch us on the road yet."

He chuckled. "One of these days I'm going to figure out whether you're an evil genius or completely nuts."

"I suppose we're going to find out."

"Can I get something for you, love?"

Elissa glared up at the buxom blonde standing beside Alistair. Or draped over him might have been a more accurate description. Her arm was casually bent across his shoulders, the other strategically resting on his chest. Elissa's eyes narrowed. "We're talking here."

That got her a dirty look, but the woman took the hint and left, looking put-out. Elissa grumbled beneath her breath. Alistair laughed, his fingers twisting playfully to lightly tug on hers. "Come on. Zevran knows where to find us. You'll feel better after we go collect our earnings."

"What would make me feel better would be if every woman in this place would stop eyeballing you like you were a joint of meat for them to fight over."

She said it loud enough to make sure she was overheard. She couldn't exactly blame Alistair for the smug grin he gave her as he leaned in a bit closer. "I'm careful to keep myself off the menu, remember?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, a slow smile touching her lips. "Is that so?"

His eyes grew immediately warm, roaming over her face appreciatively. "I might be persuaded to change my stance on the matter."

"Zevran!" The loud voice made them both jump. Elissa looked over to see Zevran emerging from the back rooms, looking slightly confused at being hailed. The mysterious woman in the corner was on her feet, her arms crossed and looking less than pleased to see him. "Come to apologize for leaving me bereft of my lord husband and then vanishing without a trace?"

Zevran smiled and offered the woman a small bow, not at all repentant. "You know it was just business, Isabella. Business that turned out well for you, I must say. You inherited the ship, I take it?"

Isabella stared at him, her scowl disintegrating as she broke out into a smile, laughing softly. "I suppose I never did like the greasy bastard. And the Siren treats me better than she ever treated him."

Beside her, Alistair chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Oh, good—those two know each other."

Elissa rolled her eyes as she got up to join them. "I suppose that shouldn't surprise me."

… … …

Sergeant Kylon was pleased with the results at the Pearl, handing over the promised sovereigns without argument. "I have another job for you, if you're interested. A rowdy group of sailors is scaring the patrons at the Gnawed Noble. If you're up to another confrontation, I'm sure it would be worth your time. The patrons of the Gnawed Noble might not be good for much, but they can gather a decent reward if they're the ones being directly affected."

Elissa looked at him curiously as she dropped the coins into her pouch. "Don't you have men stationed at the Gnawed Noble?"

His mouth twisted slightly. "Only in the loosest sense of the word. The lower market isn't deemed important by the captain of the guard, even less with Arl Howe in charge. So, when I get the new men I request, I get the delightful surprise of discovering they're Lord Such-and-Such's illegitimate, untrained, moronic whelps. But, lords keep sending me more of them. It's decent pay, no expectations, a uniform. So I have a legion of bastards to protect the market from pickpockets, stabbings and whatnot. And Arl Howe's specially picked men are the worst of the lot. With the bastards I just have to worry about dicing, the occasional drool, or yelling at them too loudly and hurting their poor feelings. But I swear, the arls men are more miscreant than the criminals we occasionally arrest."

Elissa glanced up at Alistair. "What do you think?"

He shrugged. "That last one hardly wore us out. I think we can handle another."

Kylon looked ridiculously relieved. "You've a free hand with this one, though I would appreciate it if you didn't kill them unless you have to. And my thanks, Wardens."

Elissa froze, as did Alistair. "You know who we are?"

"Your likeness was passed around to the senior guardsmen at the palace. Don't worry—even if I believed the 'official' story of what happened at Ostagar, I'm no fool. If I asked my men to apprehend you, they'd all run and cry big, sobby tears into their courtesan's bosoms and leave me all alone to be skewered. Don't disturb the peace in the market—that's well enough for me."

"Fair enough." Elissa shrugged. "We're in Denerim for a reason, actually. You wouldn't happen to know of a Brother Genetivi, would you? He's been keeping correspondence with an acquaintance of ours, but the sisters at the chantry claim they haven't seen him in weeks, and no one else has heard of him."

"He keeps to himself. Works outside of the chantry, in a small house right across the way from the Gnawed Noble. He has an assistant, if I recall—he might be able to tell you more."

"Our thanks as well, then. We'll be back in a bit."

They were headed through the busiest part of the market when Elissa suddenly heard her name called out from the crowd. She turned, her eyes scanning the array of people in some confusion before she saw the woman was running towards her, her rich skirts hiked up in a most unladylike manner as she sprinted across the center of the square, her rich brown hair coming loose of its elegant twist. It took only a moment for Elissa to recognize her and cry out in surprise, "Claudia?"

That was as far as she got before she was being tackled, her friend's arms around her neck in an iron-like grip as she sobbed in a stream of Orlesian. "Oh, thank the Maker and his blessed prophet both! We heard about Highever, and… Elissa, it's so terrible! I feared you had been slain. We've searched everywhere for you. Poor Bryce and Eleanor—the pig that did this should be hung by his own entrails and left for the ravens to devour!"

"Claudia," Elissa finally managed to say around the strangle hold. "What are you doing here?"

"The roads to Orlais are guarded, they are not permitting anyone to pass. We have been trying to find passage to Kirkwall, but they will not take our money. This Loghain, he is a hard man. He refuses to even see my father, despite his many requests for an audience." Claudia took a deep breath, smoothing back her hair. "What has happened? Why are you here, and who is this?"

"Oh," Elissa remembered her manners at the last moment. "Alistair, this is one of my oldest friends, Claudia. We grew up together."

Claudia offered Alistair a delicate hand, speaking broken Fereldish with a thick, unfamiliar accent. "Enchanté. Thank you, cher monsieur, thank you for keeping my friend. We fear for her safety."

"You're welcome, though I think Elissa can take care of herself."

"Is true, no?" She smiled and turned back to Elissa, switching back to Orlesian. "Please, you must tell me what has happened to you."

Elissa glanced up at Alistair, but he seemed to know what she was asking despite being unable to follow the conversation. "Go ahead. I can handle this one."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. I'll get Sten to come with me. He should be more than enough to convince a group of drunken sailors to be somewhere else."

… … …

Alistair let his head fall back and rest against the cool of the stone archway, closing his eyes. He was sitting in a corner of the market, enjoying a bit of shade cast either by the wall or the looming qunari beside him—he wasn't really sure which. Elissa was nearby, still talking to her friend, a look of real concern on her face as the girl chattered on about something he didn't understand. Elissa hadn't been exaggerating—she was completely fluent, answering every time the girl paused to take a breath in the easy, flowing accent of a native speaker.

He found that incredibly attractive.

He rolled his shoulders, silently cursing the ache rapidly settling into his muscles. The group plaguing the Gnawed Noble had turned out to be a good bit feistier than the first, more than willing to put up a fight, much to the delight of the barkeep. Trying to stay inconspicuous or not, they couldn't keep doing these jobs without being fully armed and armored. It was too dangerous.

He sighed, beginning to get bored, and squinted up at Sten, who was nothing more than a huge black silhouette against the glare of the sun. It still wasn't difficult to imagine the look on his face, considering the qunari didn't appear to have more than one expression. "Don't you ever talk?" Alistair asked. "You know, make polite conversation just to put people at ease?"

"You mean that I should remark upon the weather before I cut off a man's head?"

"… Never mind."

Elissa finally seemed to be finished catching up, hugging her friend as she muttered something into her ear. Alistair got to his feet, more than ready to head back to camp and, hopefully, supper. Elissa watched Claudia leave sadly, a brutal reminder of who she had been only a couple of months ago lingering in the depth of her gaze.

Alistair put an arm around her, drawing her closer in a one-armed hug that she accepted willingly, wrapping her arms around him. "You two seemed to have a lot to talk about."

She nodded and told him of the roadblocks put in place to prevent the Orlesians crossing the border. Alistair sighed at the news. "I suppose now we know why none of the Orlesian Grey Wardens have tried to contact us."

She looked worried. "I told Claudia to take her family to my cousin's estate near West Hill. He has the sense not to advertise that he has guests, if it comes down to it. I don't think they'll be safe here much longer."

Alistair didn't want to agree and make her feel worse, though he had the sneaking suspicion she was right. Instead, he took her hand as they started towards the gates of the city. "So… how did you come to grow up with an Orlesian noble, anyway?"

Elissa gave him a small, wistful smile. "My father. He was of the opinion that being unfamiliar with a culture made it altogether too easy to hate it. Claudia is the daughter of one of his business associates. I was sent to Orlais every summer when I was little, and she often came to Highever in the fall. I think he hoped the practice would catch on and ease tensions, but, of course it didn't."

"That must have made him popular."

"You have no idea. Claudia told me that Arl Howe is covering his actions by claiming that my father was getting ready to sell us out to the Orlesians. There's no saying how many people believe it, and her being here is certainly looking bad." She sighed, shaking loose strands of her hair out of her face. "It won't be long before he knows I'm here, either. She's a dear friend, but if Claudia had to keep a secret to save her mother's life, I'd start choosing a dress for the funeral. The nobility will all be whispering by tomorrow." She considered for a moment. "Didn't you say something about the Chantry looking for someone to clear the back alleys of the recent incursion of bandits?"

"Yeah. Apparently the problem is getting seriously out of hand. They're getting more and more bloodthirsty. People don't feel safe here."

She nodded, thinking. "I think it's time we started taking our name back and earning a little good will from the people of Denerim, don't you?"